A Wondering Monk
by secondplacechampion
Summary: Miroku and Sango, five years after the death of Naraku, sit and enjoy a tradition of theirs.  Goes along with Thankful but can stand alone.


First, I don't own Inuyasha, nor will I ever. I write because I have no life while waiting for school to start. This also goes along with "Thankful" - another Inuyasha fanfic I wrote, but can stand by itself. Inuyasha/Kagome have always been first and formost in the Inuyasha world, but I have a soft spot for Miroku/Sango. Which I like to refer to as "Mirango". I know I'm dumb-but it's the only way I can entertain myself.

_Enjoy!_

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**A Wondering Monk**

_. . . five years . . . _

Miroku sat at the edge of the stream, silently waiting for a fish to take his bait. It had become his routine to go fishing for an hour or so around sunset, in hopes of catching a fish or two. He had already had a fruitful day, with two fish in a clay urn not far from him. They were large, and they would be more than enough. He could pull in his line and pack up to head home, but the sun was just starting to disappear.

Sango should be here soon.

_. . . Five wonderful years . . ._

He smiled thinking back on his life. Before Naraku's death, he and Sango had been back and fourth about their relationship, they had good times, and they had bad times. Since, they had more good than bad.

His smile widened as he thought of his wife and their wedding day. Due to unfortunate events, their plans of waiting for Naraku's death for their marriage was torn to shreds. Keade was mortally wounded by a stray spider-demon when Inuyasha and Kagome had gone off to the future. By the time that Kagome got back with the needed medical supplies, she had already accepted her fate. Kagome was racked with guilt. But Lady Keade had one last request - to perform a Ceremony of Life.

Miroku had heard of the practices that say performing a Ceremony of Life helped a soul to pass on easier. Inuyasha figured that 'the old hag' had a fear of being stuck between worlds like her sister.

The Monk couldn't help but to agree. When asked what a Ceremony of Life was, Miroku had to admit while he had heard of their significance, he didn't know what all went into a Ceremony. Their were three ways one could perform a Ceremony of Life: a Birth Rite, done just after a child was born, a Death Rite, done just after a person had passed, and a Marriage Rite, which was self-explanatory. They searched the village and two nearby villages for a newborn, but could only find expectant mothers who were nowhere near close to holding their children in thier arms. And, while Inuyasha was willing, they weren't going to kill anyone, so they were stuck with the Third Rite.

Needless to say, after a few awkward conversations (and "Inuyasha! Sit!"s) between their traveling group, Sango had suggested that she and the Monk make their engagement official, for Keade's sake.

Sango was the best thing to happen to him.

"Papa!" Miroku turned to the squeal.

Well, second best thing.

"Nara! Did you come to help Papa fish?" he asked, patting the grass next to him. She squealed happily as she ran over to her father and plomped down. She smiled up to him, eyes shinning above a sprinkling of freckles that have popped up over the last year. She turned three in the spring, and a big sister over a year ago. Yes, fatherhood was defiantly the best thing that happened to him.

"Where's Mama?"

"Comin' . . ."

You see, since Nara was a baby, Miroku and his family had a tradition. If the weather was fair, Miroku would head down to the stream to see if he could catch a few fish for his family, and Sango would join him with Nara when the sun began to set, and together they would watch the sky turn from blue to orange to the beautiful pink that Nara looked forward to.

Sango would then take Miroku's catch and make dinner.

Once, Miroku feared the life of routine. He had chose the life of a wandering Monk, doomed to walk Japan until his dying day. Sure, he would offer his services wherever they were needed, and if a beautiful women were the one in need - all the better. But, all it took was one look at Nara and her big violet eyes and he had no regrets about leaving his reckless life behind.

Now, there were only times when Miroku reminisced in his 'fighting days' as Nara so innocently put it. He would put his daughter to sleep with tales of dangerous demons and powerful priestesses. She was especially fond of any tale about her mother's life as a Demon Slayer, begging her mother to train her in the way of the Slayer (much to Sango's delight and Miroku's protests). As his daughter curled up against his left side - settling into her normal spot for the daily sunset, her father's arm around her - he brought up his right arm to admire his bare palm. It didn't matter how many years passed, he never thought that he would get used to having nothing on his wrist and palm. The cursed wind tunnel passed down from generation to generation and Miroku was glad that the legacy had ended with him.

"Thinkin' old thoughts?" a woman's voice interrupted him. He didn't have to turn to see who it was.

He smiled as Nara did, "Mama!"

"You ran off on me young lady," he could hear the smile she was trying to hide by her voice alone.

He took a deep breath trying to keep from smiling himself, "Did you run from your mother?"

She got small and tiny in the presence of her parents, "I knew she wouldn't be far behind, and she was so busy with Kanaya . . . so . . ."

"It's alright dear," Sango said, readjusting Kanaya on her hip, "Just let me know when your going on ahead next time, okay?"

She nodded a weak smile, still weary of her father, "Yeah, Nara, we're going to need your help with Kanaya getting older. You're a big sister - you have to learn a bit more responsibility."

His wife nodded, "If me and your father are, for some reason, not around, it's up to you to make sure Kanaya stays safe."

"Guys!" she said - an obvious term she picked up from Kagome, "You told me this when she was born! I know!"

"I know you know!" Miroku gritted, leaning down to nuzzle with his daughter. This act alone made Sango smile, and hold her youngest daughter closer. "You have to show us that you know. And you do that by telling Mama when you're going to run off on her."

"Okay, Papa . . ."

Sango moved over to her normal spot on Miroku's right, and snuggled into his side. Kanaya crawled over on her father's lap and began to chew on his fingers. There they sat, watching the sun 'go to sleep', Nara told Kanaya.

When they were first married, Miroku had confessed to Sango that he did, in fact, entertain a lot of women, but had never bedded more than three of them. Sango was, of course, angry at him - but came to accept his history as part of who he was.

She did love him after all.

"M-Miroku . . ." he sensed her uncertainty. He furrowed his eye brows in confusion at his wife's uncharacteristic actions.

"Is there something that you wish to speak to me about?"

"Oi!" he heard from across the stream, "Monk!"

Miroku snapped his head to the call, only one person still called him by his profession (he still practiced some of the monk-ly ways but he was now an extremely dedicated husband and father) and it was none other than Inuyasha.

"Oi!" Miroku answered in friendly jest, "Demon!"

Sango chuckled against him. This happened every night Inuyasha's family took a walk, but she never tired of it. She lifted her hand and waved to her friends across the way, "Hey Kagome!" Kanaya erupted at the sight of her favorite demon. "Taro!" she exclaimed, "Taro! Taro!" she jumped up and down.

From on top of Inuyasha's shoulders, the white-haired toddler, Inutaro, waved back at the infant in her father's arms. "Oi! Monk! Keep your daughter away from my son!"

Miroku let out a short laugh, "Keep your son away from my daughter!"

Kagome laughed, and Inutaro turned red under the exchange.

Sango leaned her head against her husband's shoulder and watched as the woman she had come to know as a sister stop suddenly and place a dainty hand on her swelling stomach. There wasn't to much an alarm as she was only four months along or so . . .

Inuyasha turned, concern foremost on his features. She said something, smiling, soft enough for both of the Inu-demons' ears to perk up, Kagome then turned to them, "He just kicked!"

Sango was overjoyed at the news and leaned more weight onto her husband, while he answered for her, "That is good news Kagome! Keep your boys off my girls!"

Inuyasha laughed, his hands on Kagome's belly, "Yeah, yeah, with your blood and your reputation, Miroku, I should be more worried about my sons!"

"Awe! Just go home Inuyasha! Stop pestering my family!" Sango yelled from her place.

The couple laughed once again, "See you tomorrow, guys!"

"Goodbye!" Nara yelled after they had turned around, heading back to their own home. "Bye Taro!" little Kanaya wailed. Once again, the child on top of his father turned red and waved to her.

"I think we should be worried about our little Kanaya, Sango."

"Why? He's a good boy."

"-and she's only one-"

"-and in ten years, that won't matter."

Miroku smiled, patting Kanaya as she kept waving.

"M-Miroku . . ." Sango tried again.

Miroku looked back to her, "Oh, yes, there was something you wished to talk to me about. What is it?"

Sango then turned red, sitting up straight and off of his shoulder, "You see, Miroku, I have had a suspension for a while n-" she started, but was interrupted by the sudden jerk of Miroku's fishing pole.

"Aahh!" Nara screamed, "Papa! A fish! A fish!"

"Yeah, Nara! Hold on! Help me pull him in!"

Sango took an excited Kanaya from her father's lap, and sighed at her failed attempt. She had been trying to talk to Miroku for two days now . . .

"Just a little more . . ." Miroku struggled, playing along with Nara.

"Papa! Get the fish!" Kanaya told her mother, and Sango looked down at her, and nodded, "uh-huh."

There was a short struggle for the fish as her husband grunted and her daughters shrieked with delight. As the fish was brought to the shore it flopped and grasped for air, Sango brought the clay urn (which she was delighted to find two fish already resided) to Miroku, who acted with great turmoil to get the fish in the jar. She laughed as he collapsed on the ground - feigning exhaustion. You see, Sango knew he did it for the attention of his two little girls who were now surrounding their father with concern, poking his limp arms and face. He peaked open one eye, grabbed for the closer of the two - Nara - and began a vicious tickle attack while Kanaya tugged onto his robes, laughing.

It were times like this that Sango wished for her brother. They used to wrestle like that . . . She sighed, lost in her thoughts. The boy had made his choice - and Sango tried her hardest to understand why he did it . . . But that never stopped her from missing him . . .

Miroku noticed the forlorn look on his wife's face, "Sango?"

Snapped out of her memories, Sango smiled wide and rejoined her family, "I'm fine." Gathering up her courage once more, "Miroku - do you ever wish for the life we once had?"

Shaking his head, he motioned off to his daughters, "Why would I give up this?" Sango smiled and sighed.

"It's just that - is there anything that you would change?"

He smiled - apparent that he was lost in memories, "I know that I did a lot of wrong. Things that were . . . less than holy . . . but - if it were not for my past, I would not have my present." He turned to his wife, "I would not have you. And if it were not for you - I would not have Nara or Kanaya." Sango blushed, "So, no. I would not change anything."

She snuggled, him putting his arm around his wife, their daughters settling in their laps, and they enjoyed the last of the sun.

"We should go start dinner. Come on Nara, you can help me." She stood, taking the fish urn with her, Nara grabbing onto her hand.

"Wait!" Miroku called, Kanaya on the ground next to him, "We'll come too."

His wife smiled, and turned toward their hut.

"What prompted such a question?" Sango stopped, Kanaya toddled up to Nara and both girls looked up to their mother, violet eyes expectant. She turned to find her husband's eyes friendly. He smirked his cocky smirk, the one that told her he had something up his sleeve, "Do you wish to find a demon to slay?" Nara's wide eyes lit up.

"No. Not right now." Sango turned with a sing-song voice and wink in her husband's direction.

"Well," he came up behind Kanaya and snatched her up his arms, "You're right. We do have dinner to cook first." He snaked his free arm around her waist as they walked.

"Exactly. I am eating for two, you know." It was Miroku's turn to stop, shocked - a slow, lazy smile worked it's way onto his lips.

"Does that mean what I think it means?"

Sango nodded, smiling.

"Sango!" he gathered up as much of his wife as he could holding a toddle in one arm into a tight hug, "How long have you known?"

She shrugged, "a few days . . ."

His smile widened, and he almost laughed, "We're going to have another baby!"

"What?" came Nara's surprised question, Kanaya cocked her head, not understanding.

Miroku leaned down to his eldest, "You're going to be a big sister again." He was too excited, and caught in the moment, and kissed his wife, right there, in the open - for the whole village to see. She turned red, "Miroku!" she backed off from him, her head ducked.

"Hehehe!" he laughed - over joyous - and began walking with his arm around his wife again, "I really would not change a thing."

"Good. I didn't think so . . ." one hand on the urn, the other holding her daughter's, Sango's already wide smile turned impossible wider, "Because I wouldn't either."

Then, Sango felt a hand on her backside, " . . . Monk . . ." she growled . . .

"Yes dear?"

"You're asking for it, aren't you?"

He stared at her angry face with a playful one, "I love you."

She turned red, she had never been able to tell when he would drop that one on her, "I love you too."

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hehehe, another one. I couldn't help myself. Enjoy and be gentle! 


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